Carth Weather
by CortessaBlatt
Summary: I don’t know what the heck. CarthRevan fluff… oneshot...


**Carth Weather **

_I don't know what the heck. Carth/Revan fluff… oneshot..._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **DDDDX

**Carth Weather**

It was winter. The extensive ocean of Manaan was so chilled that the settlement groaned under the pressure of the ice that had begun to form, very thin, against its sides. By no means was this ice stable, and no one dared try and step on it. Small sheets of ice had appeared in walkways, sending people sprawling to the ground.

And this is what I call, 'Carth Weather.'

Now, like many times, we are spending the night on Manaan, in the hotels. Most of our dearest friends are gone, even Bastila, even Juhani. Only Jolee, the sweet thing, and Zaalbar, with his lifedebt, stayed. Mission had been dragged off with Bastila for training – Carth and I, as good as parents for her, had protested vehemently, but of course no one listened. It had been months now, and we were biding our time until we could figure out where we wanted to go, and we were temporarily suspended because of the weather.

So, I patiently waited for him in our room. Our room was scantly decorated for now, only with white drapes over the single window that nearly lacked a sill, a plain bed, large enough only to fit the two of them, an empty bookcase by the door, a worn, stained couch, a tiny, wickerwork mat, and a comm. system to the rest of the planet. The colorless door that led to the simple bathroom was left closed most of the time, unless one of them forgot to close it, but that was uncommon, because all it took was the press of a button. The walls were thin and flaking, and the window was stuck open, allowing the horrible winter chill in, but there I stood, dressed only in my nightgown. The wind teased it, so that it pressed against my body, and I closed my eyes so that I shut out the rest of the room.

He was always warm; a flickering flame on a hill covered in snow. His touch melted my shields, no matter how many I thrust out… his lips brought heat even in the coldest of days. I had always though it to be somewhat unnatural, because at night, when I would stand in the empty cockpit, gazing out into space, he would come out behind me and engulf me – a fire eating a log. And if I would protest, it would only hunger him more, until I was forced to succumb.

Oh, not that it was unpleasant. Part of me always wished he was there when I was alone, to provide me heat.

Now it was just me and the cold air.

I knew he would come for me sometime soon. It seemed he had a sense for when I felt cold, and was immediately there. A breeze picked up and snow began to drift through the window, soaking me, but still I remained standing, managing to refrain from shivering. I pressed my fingertips to the windowsill, fixing my eyes on the grey clouds. A storm was picking up. Snowflakes landed on my lashes, my cheeks, my lips. I smiled.

And he came. I pretended I couldn't hear him – he seemed to be trying to be unnoticed. Instead, I just sighed, watching the plume of icy air drift from my lips and out of sight. It was adorably funny, how he tried to creep up behind me. He was heavy; he had always been heavy, and yet he made an effort.

He started with his arms, wrapping them around my waist and holding me to his chest. The cold melted away where he touched me, to be replaced by gentle warmth. I leaned against him, feeling his breath tickle my neck.

"You heard me," he said quietly, following my gaze out the window. It wasn't a question.

I chuckled. "Yes, I did," I replied softly. "I let you have your fun, though."

"Hmm. Thanks for that." From his tone, I knew he was grinning. I could picture him, smiling behind me, his chocolate eyes shining. That was what I loved about his smile – it always reached his eyes, and was never false. If he didn't mean it, he didn't try.

I wasn't sure if I had imagined it or not, but I felt his lips gently brush my skin.

"What are you doing, in the cold?" he asked, his voice but a whisper. More snowflakes fell through, landing on his hands, and still more on my skin and face.

I closed my eyes. "I was waiting for you," I told him honestly.

"I don't want you to have to wait for me, beautiful." There – that time I wasn't imagining it. He certainly pressed his lips to my skin.

His heat was spreading, winding up my body like a vine on a pole, squeezing and forcing the chill from me. It brought me comfort, and I relaxed in his arms. If he let go, I would sink to the floor.

"Hey?"

He sounded concerned. I reluctantly drew myself out of my half-sleep. "Mm?"

"What's wrong?"

I smiled, and apparently he could see it, because he relaxed. "Nothing's wrong, Carth," I whispered. "Everything's perfect."

He moved, keeping his arms locked around me. He slid and turned me, so that my chest was pressed against his. I gazed up at him for a moment, taking him in. He smiled back at me, stroking my cheek and jaw with his thumb. His hands were rough, as they always had been, but still somehow the touch was tenderer than I could have thought. I found it hard to keep my eyes open while I was in such a warm, cradling embrace.

"It's snowing," he murmured.

"Hmm… is it? I didn't notice." I looked down at myself; my blouse was pale with the snow clinging to it. "So it is."

"You were standing in the snow waiting for me?" He frowned, studying me uncertainly.

I nodded sleepily. "Yes."

The hand on my jaw had moved to the back of my neck. "Oh, beautiful, you shouldn't do that. It's not healthy."

I lost my face in his jacket. "But you always warm me up after," I argued weakly.

"I'm not mad," he said, rubbing my back. "But you are cold."

I wasn't completely taking in his words. The only thing keeping me awake was his touch. His heat was lulling me to slumber.

"Hey… wake up." He had sensed my exhaustion had proceeded to try and rouse me with his kisses. I could feel them trailing up and down my neck, but they only slightly stirred me. The stubborn snowflakes still held to my lashes and my hair.

"I'm awake," I mumbled. My voice turned whiny. "Mph… _Caaarth_, I'm _awaaake._"

"No, you're not, or you wouldn't be mumbling," he replied, his voice muffled in my shoulder. The sleeve of my gown had slid down, just above my elbow, exposing the flesh on my upper arm. He kissed that, too.

I shivered and his grip tightened on me. "Sorry," I said quietly. "I guess I stood there a little too long. It didn't seem like that long, really…"

"It's okay, I told you I wasn't mad," he said, and I started as I realized his eyes were fixed on mine. I lowered my lashes for a moment, afraid to read his expression, and he kissed my nose.

"You have something you want to say," he breathed.

"No, I don't."

"You do. Don't lie to me, beautiful, even if I might love you enough to believe it."

"Oh, don't go on that again," I moaned, but he silenced me as he pressed his lips to my mouth.

More snow. It was chilling my back and melting on my nightgown, turning it damp, but he didn't seem to mind as he kissed away the snowflakes on my lashes and hairline. The warmth was completed. The cold only seemed like heavy wet.

"Why were you waiting for me?" he asked, seeing me finally give up.

"Because when I'm cold you always are there to warm me back up," I replied, a small, embarrassed smile flickering onto my face.

He chuckled, teasing my head back and kissing my neck again. I let him, fixing my gaze on the ceiling.

"There are better ways of getting me home, beautiful," he murmured.

"Like what?"

"You could call me." He moved on, to my collar. My nightgown was thin and it seemed as if his hands were roaming over unprotected flesh. I shut my eyes, so that the sensation became more real to me. He sensed this, and laughed again, softly, so not to break the gentle hush we had set together. "I have to admit I like your way better, in the end," he said at last.

I do so love Carth Weather.

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**Author's Notes: **My fanfics are becoming more and more pointless. I need a break, or some support or ideas or something. Aaaiiigh. I'm sorry I've been gone so long, but I've got killer writer's block, even while everything I write is painfully right-on. Been dulling the pain with three whole notebooks of KotOR doodles; at least I can draw eyes now. But back to the fanfic. I had no specific goal or point with this one – I just went with the flow and wanted to keep a constant theme of warm and cold. I wanted to stress more the snowflakes, but WHATEVER. I feel kind of unloved right now, so this is kind of like the ultimate contradiction. I. Don't. Care. DX

Hint: Note the underlined words.


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